


Trust

by kuhleesi



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuhleesi/pseuds/kuhleesi
Summary: The thought process of an assassin who has been given something when she's not used to receiving.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short-drabble from the point of view of my half-elven rogue, Arden. Made purely for personal reasons and to share with my own DnD group. I just didn't have anywhere to post it in, and I've had major writer's block lately.

Picture this: A wolf in sheep's clothing, cornered by predators more dangerous than her.

That was how Arden felt at the moment the group found out what she really was. She was cleaning her dagger on her cloak, wiping the blood of whatever abomination that had come to attack the Mindpact off before it ate at the steel and let it rust. She froze when Tiberius projected into her mind. It was so unexpected, she didn't even have time to fight against it. It was like a cold hand travelling up her spine and then grabbing the back of her head.

She couldn't remember what he said, just the inevitable, involuntary mental scream back at him, _Shit! I can explain!_ And she really didn't want to. She didn't even plan on letting them know what she did, let alone her connection to the Hand of Thorns.

Now, here they were. Asking for her. From a dragonborn that she sure as shit would give her up if it meant protecting everyone else, damn his honorable, scaly hide.

She wouldn't blame them if they did sell her out. Lord knows it was what she'd do. If she had found out one of them was actually just waiting to kill her, she'd be pissed. As racist as Lourd was, at least he was open about wanting to kill people, however disturbing that was--he was honest. Arden was anything but. It was who she was wired to be. Lying meant being safe. Lying meant nobody would ever be able to trace...

Nope. Now was not the time to think about it. Not with Tiberius probing her mind. For the first time in a while, she felt fear. Fear of what the Hand of Thorns would do if they took her back. Because she was pretty sure they weren't attacking to give her a welcoming hug. A nice, solid strangling, probably. Or a hanging. But not a hug. Unless it was literally bone-crushing.

She shivered. Arden knew how creative Zanorin's torture methods could be. Contracts were thrown at Norixius's feet. Lourd, Fraile and Tiberius' names were all on it, Lourde was relaying all of this through his familiar. This surprised even her. She knew Lourd was her target, of course. But it didn't occur to her that Fraile and Tiberius would be her new target. If she had continued doing the Hand's bidding, it was a turn of fate that she would still be meeting the very people she fought with, who protected her in battle when needed.

"I can explain, I promise." Was her meek response to the looks of surprise and betrayal on the three. Shit. _Shit!_ She really didn't want to.

There was silence, and Lourd's seething glare and Tiberius' smirk about her owing him a favor, and Fraile--Arden could never imagine killing Fraile now that she knew him and knew his good heart. If someone had shuffled those contracts another way and it was Fraile she had to kill before Lourd, she wouldn't have hesitated to do so. He was a sad tiefling who sang in a tavern and who no one would miss. But there he was, the one person in their messed up group that would be the last person she'd want to kill.

Then Norixius walked in, asked her to explain, and she had never wanted to smack Islath's face more than that moment. Just because she wanted to lash out. But if she did, trigger-happy Lourd would evaporate her in an instant. And if that happened...

Arden had never felt more open than that moment, more vulnerable. But the words were out before she could control them, and almost in tears, she explained. And they, weirdly, accepted her. Accepted her situation. Accepted that she was the way she was. "She's one of us." Tiberius had said.

One of them.

It never occured to Arden that she could be considered part of something. It was always just her doing what Zanorin wanted. And here these people were, people she barely knew for two months, and they stood by her when they didn't even know who she really was.

She sprinkled a little guilt into her story, and technically she never lied. She _did_ hate working for the Hand of Thorns. She did, indeed, feel used and cheated. And she was, in fact, completely done with taking orders. But she never said how much she enjoyed what she did. How the killing could be satisfying, how the deception was exciting. They didn't need to know that. All they needed to see was a poor little half-elf taken advantage of.

And they went back to the Six Chairs and grabbed drinks like it was just any other day. On the way, Norixius held her back.

"No more lies." He said.

Arden looked him square in the face and for a moment, far longer than she liked, and for the first time in a long time, she felt guilt. But she had bared her soul to these people, almost, and she felt like she needed to cling to one more thing, to put up one more wall or else she would crumble and not know who she was anymore.

"No more lies." She repeated, and even she wasn't sure if she was lying or telling the truth.

What weighed her down even more was how he said he trusted her enough that she could use his name.

Rhogar.

It was the most bizarre feeling ever, being trusted just like that, without having to fight tooth and nail to gain it. And a part of her knew she didn't deserve it, but a bigger part felt...grateful? Honored, even?

Trust. What a fragile, delicate thing.

Arden knew whatever trust Lourd had given her broke the moment he knew what she was really doing in the Seven Tables. He had told her everything about his past, trusted her enough to say those things. It was for her ulterior motive in the end, of course, but she couldn't help but feel disappointment when he saw that distrustful glare he sent her way.

She had been so used to mistrust, sure. Knew it like the back of her hand. But not from these people. Not for two months. She didn't trust them enough to be vulnerable. She was still rebuilding the walls that had been torn down so unexpectedly.

And yet, after everything, their trust still came.

And then it was Fraile opening up to her in a letter. She had asked him for the contracts to study them as the new self-proclaimed leader of the Hand of Thorns, just to see who people hated the most. It didn't surprise her that Lourd's name was in a lot of them. What did surprise her was the letter tucked amongst the contracts, addressed to her and written by Fraile.

Arden's heart could have shattered at that moment. Both because of what he shared with her in confidence and the fact that he would even tell her any of this.

It was alien for her. To be given something that she didn't ask for and didn't work for. She had been so used to people taking from her that this was all so unexpected. She put the letter down, covered her face and sighed into her hands.

Despite how touching this all was, it terrified her. She wasn't used to handling something as delicate as trust. And she kept hers so hidden that she still couldn't open up to any of them.

Especially not Islath, fuck that dude. And maybe not Tiberius. Not yet, not when she still wasn't sure of him. Or Talen because he had a stick up his ass. Or Ryu because the dude was just weird. Or Seraphina because who the fuck even was she. Or Lourd because, to be completely honest, he's too binded by his hatred that he wouldn't even want to waste his time on her. Or Banda, as cool as the halfling was, she still only just met her. Or Norixius--Rhogar--purely because he was too damn honorable and she had done some fucked up things and she wasn't ready for thar judgment from him.

That left her with Fraile and Forgath.

And to be honest, she'd rather stick a dagger down her throat than try to have a serious conversation with a dwarf who was stupid enough to cut his own beard off in the middle of battle.

And Fraile... Well... He had his own baggage to carry. She didn't need to add to it by whining about her past. Not when she hasn't been through nearly anything like what he had.

But tonight, she'd settle for a drinking game. And maybe she would consider it someday, if they prodded a bit. For now, she would like to keep what little secrets she has left for her own peace of mind.


End file.
